The EBF Cast Explains Fanfiction Sins
by Kribies
Summary: Do you upload material, then look at your work a week down the line and say, "Man, what was I thinking?" Fear no more! The cast of "Epic Battle Fantasy" would be glad to help you...if they weren't goofing off.
1. Show-Off

"What are we doin' here, Matt?" Anna said with a question. She wanted to ask it to Matt.

"Well, we're going back to Greenwood, the village where you were born and raised, to tell everyone about 'Show, Don't Tell'!" Matt said, explaining it.

"What's that?"

"It's a wonderful tip on how to write better fiction," Matt said to Anna. "I'm glad you asked that."

"I'm curious," Anna said. "How do you use 'Show, Don't Tell'?"

"Well, if you want to convey something to the reader, it's better to show it, rather than say that it happened. It helps create immersion and keep pacing," Matt explained again. "For example, rather than saying, 'Greenwood is beautiful,' I could say, 'the trees in Greenwood reflect lush emerald.'"

"I love Greenwood. Brings back so many memories."

Suddenly, a giant slime ambushed Matt. "Matt! That Slime's angry!"

"Augh, I'm suffocating!" Matt said.

Anna was frightened. _Now that Slime's givin' him a massive beatdown! Oh wait, Matt just pulled out his sword! _Anna continued to think to herself. _Wait, now the Slime gathered more Slimes! Matt's really puttin' up a fight…_

Suddenly, Matt fell to the ground, heavily injured. The slimes left. Anna saw that Matt was unconscious.

"Man," said Anna. "Now they'll never know 'bout 'Show, Don't Tell'…"


	2. Koinkydink

Lance lied his head on the desk, clutching his pencil in an iron grip. His eyes were rosy, staring into space for god-knows-how-long. The gunman glanced yet again at a paper:

_How to Avoid Writing Coincidences_

_by Lance_

A shimmer of hope flashed in his mind. Lance rushed his hand to the page, the graphite blasting onto the page like a meteor.

Nothing.

With a loud sigh, he slammed himself onto the desk. He felt that his head was about to explode. Lance shifted his glazed glance toward the clock. Five-thirty.

He beat the desk as if it were a drum.

_It just had to be me._

A flash blasted through the room. When Lance opened his eyes, he saw a pale apparition floating above his assignment. "Hey, Lance!"

The sniper launched his body from the desk to his chair, toppling himself to the hard wood below. The spirit lent his hand to him. Just as Lance tried to meet his trembling hand to his, he only caught the air. He resolved to tumble out of his chair like a weed.

"What's happenin', bro?" the ghost said, reclining himself onto Lance's work. The man lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm Muse, remember? Your little brother?"

Lance lowered his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Oh, we used to have so much fun together," the spirit continued. "Like, there was that time at the park, and my seventh birthday, and-"

"Why are you here?" said Lance.

"Well, funny story. Y'see, when you were eleven and I was nine, I got my head stuck in a meat compactor while you weren't looking. Coincidence, huh? Anyway, I went down to the River Styx, but the ferryman wouldn't let me go. Y'see, he said that I need to give him one thousand gold coins if I want to go to the Underworld, or else I'll wander this miserable earth forever!"

The ghost lifted itself and gravitated toward Lance, who was gradually moving toward the wall.

"So all of a sudden, I stumbled onto my big bro! Coincidence, huh? Anyway, could you…y'know, lend your little bro some cash?"

Lance kept his expression, analyzing this situation. "How am I sure you're my brother?"

"Oh, Lance, we've been together for so long!"

"What's my last name?"

"Oh, well when you roam the earth for so long, you kinda forget that stuff…y'know?"

The apparition smiled at Lance, opening his arms, leaning toward Lance even more. The man walked into a dust-covered closet painted in darkness. He emerged with a rifle, with an orb on its side shining with energetic plasma. The ghost reared itself, its grin diminishing.

"Oh, would you look at the time…five-thirty-five," he said, tapping his wrist. "Uh…what a coincidence."

The snow-white spirit leaped through the wall. Lance focused on the wall. The man let out a loud sigh, tossing his gun and returning to the assignment.

Just for a moment, Lance clutched his pencil and met its tip with the page.

Nothing.


	3. Beauty is Skin-Deep

Anna crashed into Matt like a truck. As the blonde fixed his back, his eyes shifted from her body to the note in her hand. Taking the curious paper from her, now finger-painted by the mud and dew, he focused on what seemed to be a series of wavy lines only an ant could decipher.

"Oh!" the girl said, lifting her chest from the earth. "Hey Matt, y'know I was assigned to do characterization for today's lesson, right?"

Matt nodded, tilting a brow. "Well, instead of just telling them what not to do, I'm gonna tell them what they should do — through example!" She snatched the sheet from the swordsman and cleared her throat.

"Belle Jonnison is a 17-year old girl with smooth skin and umber hair. She is 5 feet, 7 inches and likes to figure skate. When she's not on her favorite social media site, Belle likes to eat pizza and play video games for three hours. She also has a crush on the boy next door. Belle Jonnison earns straight A's in her classes and hangs out with many friends."

Matt clasped his hands. "That's a lot of details, but what's her character?"

The girl put her hands on her hips, glaring at her critic.

"Like, what's she like on the inside? How does that influence her choices?" Matt said.

Anna stormed away, crumpled parchment in one hand, fist in the other.

_Everyone's a critic_.


	4. Ship Crash

The schoolgirl hid behind in the alley, her face cherry-red. She slammed her back against the brick. With a few deep breaths, she slumped onto the pavement. She darted her eyes. _Is he still there?_

She tried to crawl out of the alleyway ever so slightly. Her hands grasped the gritty edge. Then she dragged herself out of the shadow. As she trembled, the girl peeked toward ahead. It was Lance.

The schoolgirl's eyes gleamed. It was Lance, whose crimson hair glided with the brisk wind. Lance, the prince to her princess. Lance, her Helen of Troy.

Lance glanced toward her, and the girl fled into the alleyway just as fast. Her grin dropped. She balled her hands and pounded them onto the brick. _Stupid, stupid Lance! _She clenched her teeth as if she were about to scream, but followed with a heavy sigh. It was all supposed to go smoothly: meet Lance, confess her love, live together forever. Why did this feel so tough?

The schoolgirl recalled an episode of _Starlight Love: Passion of Amaya:_

"_Makoto, there's something I have to tell you."_

"_Amaya..."_

"_Makoto... I love you. More than anything in the world."_

"_Oh, Amaya... I love you too."_

"_Makoto..."_

"_Amaya, I love you more than every grain of sand on this beach. I love you more than the Sun and Moon and my dead brother."_

"_Oh, Makoto!"_

If it went so smoothly for Amaya, why not her?

The girl heard footsteps. She darted toward the street, and saw that it was none other than Lance. She reached out her hand, but withdrew it in a flash. Her eyes were fixed on Lance as he strolled further down the sidewalk. The schoolgirl's hands trembled and her chest became tense.

_Will I make a fool of myself? What if Lance says no? What if I don't ask? What am I gonna do? _The girl clenched her chest while she tried to make up her mind. _This could be my one chance..._

She ran toward Lance, veering and pushing through everyone else. Lance turned his head and stared at the oncoming hazard. The girl stopped moments before she crashed into her idol.

"Oh hey," Lance said.

The girl's eyes gazed into Lance's dazed demeanor. "Hey."

The man tried to turn around, but her lover grabbed his shoulder. "Uh, Lance..."

They faced each other again. "Lance, you've been a good friend and all, and just wanted to tell you something."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Hikari..."

"Lance, the truth is... well... I love you. More than everything in the world."

Lance took a step back while she continued. "I love you more than the Sun and the Moon and... uh... everything!"

The man turned around. While Hikari gazed at him, Lance tried to quicken his pace. Maybe it would help him forget the whole thing.

"Lance?" Hikari's idol, the prince to her princess, her Helen of Troy, vanished among the crowd without a second thought. All the schoolgirl could do was stare ahead.

o-o-o-o-o-o

She opened the door, and flopped her jacket onto the floor. As she treaded along the staircase, her brother spotted her. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing."

He could see it her eyes. _Something's wrong._

"Is there anything I can do?" he said.

She continued to her room. He darted his eyes around the hall and went through whatever he could find. He pulled out his agenda.

"Well, Anna and I are going to the study."

Hikari peeked out of the doorway. "What for?"

"We're trying to write how not to do relationships in fiction. Y'know, cliches, pitfalls and all that. The thing is, we need someone who's 'been there', in a sense."

He held out his hand to Hikari. "Do you want to help?"

Hikari smirked, straightened her back and loosened her fists. "Sure thing."


	5. Argumatt

"Anna! Guess what!"

Her blonde accomplice rushed into her room, tossing pages of scribble aside. "You know the lesson we were supposed to do on how to write arguments?"

She was led to a soap-box platform, and a sign which read:

_Matt and Anna Present:_

_Writing Realistic Arguments_

"Instead of telling them what to do," Matt continued, "We can show them an argument!" Anna's face lit up to the idea. Her friend stood on the platform, anxiously muttering.

"What do you have in mind?" said Anna.

Matt cleared his throat and dawned an ancient pair of glasses. "I, Matt, believe that the red apple is the best apple."

"You mean the Red Delicious," Anna added. Her opponent glanced at her. "Unless ya mean all red apples. And if that's the case, why didn't ya just say, 'red apples are the-'"

"Exactly! All red apples are the best apples."

"What d'ya mean by 'best'? Different apples give ya different nutrition, and they all have distinct colors n' structures."

"By taste, of course."

"So you've tasted all kinds of red apples?"

"Of course I have."

"Name five."

Matt leaned back and pinched his chin. Drops of sweat crept onto his glorious brow. "Well, there's the Delicious, and Granny Smith, uh..."

"Matt, how can you base yer argument this little knowledge?"

"Well, if you're such an apple expert," shouted Matt, "Why don't you tell me what the best apple is?"

Silence filled the room. He saw Anna, retreating from her vehement opponent. Matt took a deep breath and sat on his soap-box. Anna joined him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry bud," Matt responded. "Guess I took the argument too far."

"It was a pointless argument," she added. "Look, it's good to have arguments. But ya need to understand what you're goin' up against."

"It just seemed like a good point when I thought of it."

"Well, that's because you were debating with yourself. You should get a lot of other opinions 'fore you fight against them. And only then will your efforts bear fruit."


End file.
